Footprints
by Carolyn984
Summary: Misty is gone, leaving Ash to ponder what could've been...


Footprints  
Carolyn984@aol.com  
Use of characters without permission. No infringement intended.   
  
There are times I swear I know you're here  
When I forget about my fears  
Feeling you, my dear  
Watching over me, my hope sings of what the future will bring   
When you wrap me in your wings and take me   
Where you are  
Where you and I will breathe together once again   
And we'll be dancing in the moonlight like we used to do  
And you'll be smiling back at me  
Only then will I be free  
When I can be  
Where you are..  
~Jessica Simpson & Nick Lachey  
-----  
Do you hear that, Misty? The waves, crashing and tearing the summer sands, leaving soft, foamy ripples in their wake. Can you see the palms wavering in the hot seasonal breezes? The heat leaves the earth in waves of their own, spiraling and twirling toward the mother sun, remorseless of the sluggish uncomfort they leave behind. Do you feel that sun? The blazing redness that we mortal humans depend on each morning to rise and wake us with it's glory. Are you here?  
Of course you aren't. If you were, that would be us in that blue-green splendor they call the ocean. Coughing and sputtering after the other dunked our unexpecting head under the crest of the waves. How I wish that was us..  
Did you ever stop to think, Misty, how unfair life is? Did you ever think about the victims, young and old, of earthquakes? Volcanoes, tsunamis, fatal demons ripping families apart without a second glance. But still, time does not stop for the grieving kin. The sun will still rise the next morning, warm and smiling, and crystalline rivers will still cascade uproarously over waterfalls. Time does not stop for anyone, and certainly not us.   
I see footprints in these peachy grains of ground rock. Are they yours? Did you ever walk along this beach as I am now? Maybe one day, years ago, you were here, staring up into the creamy blueness of the summer sky. Then you looked over to where the sea meets the sky, and thought, why can't I be there? It looks so peaceful.  
When I recede into my red sleeping bag at twilight, alone, I swear I feel you here. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I sense your presence everywhere. If I wake up when the world is pitch black, I'll look over to where you used to sleep, and I almost expect you to be there. It's more like hope, actually. To look over and see you, Misty, just as you always were. You wore your hair down at night, usually, and I loved to just watch you. Sometimes I'd even brush a stray lock of soft red hair out of your closed aquamarine eyes, as clear blue as the sea, and if I was feeling really daring, I'd kiss your forehead softly. I think you caught me once, you little sneak, but you never said anything. I loved that about you.   
Will you come back, anytime?  
Look, Misty! The sun is setting. A vivid display of color, splashing into one another. The ocean is golden now, with the sun's tired rays bouncing off the cooling air. A painter, not even the best, could capture the magnificent prism of blues, firey reds, and serene violets that the massive star hath created. Can you see this, where ever you are? I hope so. Maybe it isn't the sun that makes breath-taking sunsets such as these.   
Maybe it's you.   
What do you think about that?  
Teenage lovers are departing the beach now, smiling at each other with the unforgettable image of the sky planted fresh in their skulls. I wish that was us.   
A tear rolls down my tanned cheek. See what happened to me? I brush it away half-angrily. Why did you have to leave me?  
The stars are peeking out of the velvety curtain that blocks them from out sight during the blistery day. Did you ever wish on a star, Misty? If so, did it ever come true? I hope so.   
Come to think of it, I don't think I ever tried wishing on those sparkling, winking stars. Maybe if it did, my wish would come true. Maybe I'll impose my dreams on one of them tonight. If I wish on a star when I find one suitable, will you come back? Please say you will.   
As I unroll my sleeping bag wearily, I look up at the inky heavens in search of that perfect silver speck. Finding it, I squeeze my eyes closed and pray with all my heart and soul that my angel will return. A moment later, I open my golden-brown eyes and see no difference in the number of people around me. I am still alone.   
Can you see me? Maybe. But I see you everywhere.   
I haven't found you yet, but I will. I won't admit, even to myself, that my search is impossible, because then what is my purpose in life? I'll dream about you tonight, just as I do every night, in a fantasy that could never be. I'll find you, someday. I'll keep looking until I go blind in 60 years, and even then, I'll look more.   
Please wait for me, Misty, where ever you are. Until I find you, just look at the sunsets you created, or the cool ocean water, or the navy pallet of sky.   
Look at them, because when you do, I will be, too.   
---------  
Carolyn984@aol.com  
(c) 2000 by Carolyn   



End file.
